The Tragedy of Makoto
by Diritus
Summary: An infant is found in the debris of a Kiri military supply base by a chunin from Konoha examining the rubble for military documents. She pleads with her superiors to save him. This story follows the life of that child, Makoto, and his life in Konoha under the reign of Hashirama. (OCs only, but please R&R anyway ) Rating may go up based on Makoto's language.


**AN: Alright...alright, I know. I've got to finish Repression and I've started and redone two other fics...but I have been toying with this one a LOT lately, and tonight the beginning came to me and I knew that I would regret it if I didn't do anything with it right now. So this is the result, might be a while before it's updated depending on what I work on after Repression. This is a story that follows the life of my OC, Makoto. This one involves all OC main characters and only a few canon characters appear or are mentioned at all due to the time period. It starts off under the reign of Hashirama and should lead us right up to just after Tobirama becomes Hokage. I know, no favorite characters or pairings to look for, I'm sorry, but I hope it's a good read anyway for you. Enjoy.**

**I do not own Naruto, but I do own Makoto.**

The fog poured thick and disorienting across the damp, mossy earth. The boots of the small troupe sank slightly with each step, as though walking on firm sponge, the smell of the earth heavy in their nostrils. Though they made minimal effort to conceal themselves (The fog was doing a wonderful job of that for them) they still walked with their guard up. Minimal risk, abandoned or not, this was still enemy territory, and Konoha ninja trapped in the mist could always turn bad quickly that close to Kiri.

There were five in total: two jounin, one at point and the other at rear guard, and three chunin between them. The only reason their mission was considered B rank was because it took place behind enemy lines. It was a recon mission. They were days behind the trail of a Konoha mobile unit, the ones that actually got to see combat. They had laid waste to a Kiri military supply camp that had spent far too long under the guise of being a normal fringe village.

Soon, they came to the wreckage, the dark shapes of what were once buildings emerged from the mist like beasts swirling in murky waters. The contrast between the dark wood and the white that coated the world coupled with how diminished everything was caused the hair to rise on the backs of the chunin's necks. The jounin were far more used to the eerie effects that the mist could have on the surrounding scenery and paid little mind to it.

"Here it is." The point guard noted, the only sound ripping through the stillness cast over the area.

"Just what are we looking for?" came the response from one of the bolder chunin.

"Anything at all, left over supplies, but most importantly any documents that might have survived, anything to tell us what they're up to over here. We know that several high ranking officers were present during the raid. They might have left papers behind."

The ruins of the town were impressive. Whole buildings seemed to have simply split in two and laid down on their sides. Mounds of dirt covered walls to windows and craters pocked the scene, leaving charred planks around their edges. Almost everything seemed to have been charred to some degree, making the whole place look silhouetted when it was really just blackened from being turned into crude charcoal. Ninja tools and various weapons scattered the ground, rusting in the impossible humidity. More surreal than that were the personal effect that were left behind. There was a backpack left relatively unharmed on what was once a porch, a keychain still attached to it. It was a miniature dream catcher, a good luck charm. Silverware and pots and pans were splayed in what used to be a kitchen, a place where people would gather to eat and discuss matters at hand. It was those simple hints of humanity in a place so dead and desolate that were the most chilling...if you could call this place dead. To be dead hints that at some point you were alive, and the stillness that bathed those grounds hung thick enough to convince anyone that life had never existed within it's domain.

There were no bodies left behind, only dried blood that had soaked into the ground or burned against the wood. The casualties from both sides had been returned to Konoha, the enemies for autopsies and examination, the allies for honorable funerals. Removing those that had once inhabited the remains furthered the feeling of eternal stillness, of lacking either life or death.

The five began to explore the ruins, separating but never going to far from one another. They crept through the buildings like rats through a landfill, pouring over the junk and rubble in the hopes of finding something of value. The scent of charcoal and copper was heavy, almost as heavy as the smell of earth, between the borders of the town. They were instructed to search all buildings, even if signs showed that it was a residential building. Leave no drawer unopened, leave no rubble untouched. The jounin with their more skilled eyes found themselves gravitating towards the more official buildings, the ones most likely to produce what they were looking for.

One of the chunin found herself in what she was able to eventually identify as a residential building, a home. Her eyes were wide, still awestruck that the raid had happened only a day and a night prior to their arrival. The bodies were already cleared away, all traces of life and death were gone. The stillness settled in as soon as no one was looking and dug its roots deep into this place.

She carried out her duties as she was told, turning over anything and everything, hunting for paper that wasn't too charred or too damp. She would settle for anything as long as it was legible. Beginning in the kitchen, she rummaged through several drawers finding only silverware and various cooking utensils. Mangled remains of appliances also proved nothing of interest. This lack of results continued as she moved through the vague borders of the home.

One room in particular made her heart skip a beat, her stomach fluttering into her chest. It was the back of the home, the side that had the least amount of damage inflicted during the raid. Most of the back wall and far left corner were left unscathed. The flames seemed to have stopped at the near walls for the most part. The ash in the room was thick, abundant, but it wasn't ash from burning paper or wood, not the flakes that scattered most of the home. This was more bunched, almost like piles of fabric had burned. But what had caught her eye immediately and refused to let it go was the remaining piece of furniture on the back wall, the centerpiece of the room. It was a crib. She had stumbled into a nursery.

To think that a child...no, a baby, had lived in this room, that new life had been produced in a place that was so assuredly devoid of life and death shocked her senses. The shock was only the first wave that came to her. A slower, more sobering wave soon replaced it. It was the cold wave of remorse, of regretting humanity as a whole as she slowly realized that the baby had died in this place as well.

Carefully, with tender steps she entered the room, walking as though entering the most hallowed of temples. A swell of tears rose in her throat that she fought back, the idea of making a sound in that room haunting her. It would seem a desecration against the life that was lost there. She approached the crib, reaching out to touch it's smooth wooden surface, a sacred alter to life that almost was, to life that was lost and replaced with stillness. She maintained as much distance as she could, leaning forward to reach her hand out, gripping the side of it. She held the smooth, uncharred wood in her hand, giving a moment of silence to pay her respects.

A sound rang out, causing her to jump and give a yelp of her own. It was a cough, a small, surrendering of air back into the world. Her blood coursing with adrenaline now, she raced to the crib, grabbing the side of it with both hands and peering into it.

Covered in an ashy-grey blanket, the small form of an infant emerged. It coughed again, mouth open and gaping for air, eyes shut tight with the struggle. The baby was weak, on it's last leg, but alive. Seconds passed and all the chunin could do was stare at it in disbelief. That small, wiggling thing was...life. There was life in this stillness, in this place devoid of life or death. There was new life at that.

Realizing she had to do something, she pulled the blanket away from the baby, looking it over for any injuries. There was a burn on it's thigh just below it's hip, but the wound seemed to be healing well on its own. Other than that, the child seemed to only be suffering from exposure. It might stand a chance. Reaching into the crib, she retried the child, who whined, eyes opening and glistening with fear and pain, with wanting for the ones that she knew were no longer there.

As she left the rubble, baby in her arms, she met with one of the jounin. After giving a look of shock at the infant she carried, the jounin's face became stern. "What is that?"

"It's a baby, Mia-san. There was a nursery in the back of that house that the flames spared. He's injured, but I think he'll be-"

"Leave it,"

"What?"

"Leave it. The mist will claim it soon enough. After all of this, I think it would be a welcomed end to a brief and miserable life."

The chunin could hardly believe what she was hearing. They could save this child, and her superior would just let him die? "How could you say something like that?"

"We are behind enemy lines! Don't you understand what a liability an infant would be? If that thing chose to cry at the wrong time, we could end up no better than its parents!"

She held her position and shook her head, eyes gleaming with determination, with utter resolve. "...I can't...There's no way that I can leave this child here."

The jounin met her eyes, looking deep into them, studying the resolve that she found there. Would she crack? Was she really standing up for this? She decided that the girl was. This was a noble stand, this was going out of your way for the life of another, and she had no right to interfere with resolve like that. "You are so soft...very well, but the moment that child poses a threat to my team, I will have no choice but to leave it behind and carry on, with or without you. Understood?"

The chunin gave a nod, understanding that there was a very real chance that she would be left alone within enemy lines, that she might have to fend for herself and a child on their return trip to Konoha. But that didn't matter. She had saved a life that day, and nothing was more important to her than that. She had saved a life, and drawn new life from a place devoid of either life or death.


End file.
